


A walk towards the edge

by lazyphannie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Post-Apocalypse, Suicidal Thoughts, mentions of family deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-20 06:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22944736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyphannie/pseuds/lazyphannie
Summary: Dan's lying at the edge of a cliff in a post-apocalyptic world
Kudos: 4





	A walk towards the edge

**Author's Note:**

> this one's a little dark. normally I don't actually write things like this, and I didn't actually write it recently. i actually wrote it for a creative writing assignment last year lols, but thought i'd post it anyway.  
> anyway, If you wanna pop on over to my tumblr [alazyphannie](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/alazyphannie) i have a feeling I'll be doing more shit on there

The smallest luxuries always seemed to be the ones he missed the most. Things he had before the world had been torn to shreds. Hair, soft enough to run fingers through. Teeth, smooth. Not covered in the fuzziness that feels like a slime clinging to his soul. Dry feet. Dry socks. Dry clothes. Warm hands. His hands, now, are always cold. His fingers raw, and littered in cuts.

The last time it was this cold he hadn't felt it. The fireplace at his old apartment had been easy to use, and blankets were stocked in the cupboard, waiting to be piled upon his shaking body like weights. They used to pin him to his bed till sleep knocked at the door and crept inside. He missed his apartment. He missed security. He even missed the early days of the end of the world, where this new reality hadn't fully settled in. It's settled in now. He's gone through too much for it to not have. 

Sometimes he wishes that back in his old life he'd been homeless. Then the transition between life to nothing would have been easier. That thought makes him feel guilty. Guilty with the pain of how lucky he had been, and how lucky he still was. Afterall, he was still here. Walking, and breathing, occasionally eating, with his cold hands.

He could hear the ocean. That gentle calming rhythm of water lapping against sand. He couldn’t see it. The cliff was too high up, and he was too far away from the ledge to be able to peer over and watch it swell in its great swarms. He could imagine it though. Imagine what it would feel like if he jumped into it. Would it be close enough to the edge of the cliff that he'd land in it? His lungs freezing up, spluttering as they tried to keep breathing. He heard that way to go was painful. Drowning felt like inhaling fire, until eventually it didn’t and his body gave up. Or would he land with a crash against the sand? His body breaking on impact. Would someone like him stumble upon it, stealing everything he had before leaving? Maybe they'd do the same as him. Jump from this cliff. Try to escape the life fate had so cruelly gifted them. Or maybe they had someone with them, someone that meant they'd never leave this world as long as their person didn’t. 

Thoughts like these occurred more often than not now. It was probably the only thing that kept him going. The thought that if he wanted, he had a way out. He wouldn’t jump today. Probably wouldn’t jump tomorrow either. It was just his head, whispering things that would have scared him last winter, but didn't now. It was sick and twisted, and if he ever met anyone else in this world he'd be sure to never tell them these things. But for now, it was his safety net. 

The wind picked up then. Sea air was so much colder than the wind he used to get in the city. It was easier to travel this way though. Following the coast until something found him, or he found something. 

Salt air invaded his mouth, and his mind was surrounded by the overwhelming memories of holidays by the seaside. 

When he was little his mother used to take him and his brother down to visit their Grandparents. Those were some of his happiest memories. They'd run across the sand, toes scrunching. The grains would grit and scratch, and feel magical in the sense they could make him feel so free. He could remember Adrian racing him the length of the shore, towel flying behind him like a cape. 

His hand reached up to catch a tear as it trickled down his cheek. He wasn’t really crying yet. Just reminiscing on what he'd lost. Sometimes the memories would pour in so fast and hard that he'd loose his breath. Sobs would racket his core and fill the earie silence of nothing until he collapsed and they echoed around him. 

His mother's smile was one thing he could get caught up in missing. Or the wrinkles around her eyes when she laughed. Or the little crease between her eyebrows that was saved for when she was thinking really hard. He stood there wishing she could stroke his hair. Her fingers trailing comfort. Telling him everything would be okay. That she was here. 

But she wasn’t here. He didn’t know where she was. Just like so many others she'd been lost to the mystery that came and then was gone.


End file.
